oikage week
by nepetation
Summary: A collection of indie drabbles for the pairing oikawa and kageyama! These stories are unrelated, unless I state otherwise.
1. Hatred

The pounding squeaks of shoes on the waxed gymnasium floor. The thick stench of sweat, and the cologne inappropriately used to cover it. The taste of adrenaline with every connection he made during a match.

Volleyball. Oikawa lived and breathed the game. It was rare to find him without a ball in his hands, even off the court. He was always tossing it up to himself, spinning it between broad palms, walking two fingers over its surface while it rolled beneath his hand. It was just a part of him.

He always liked that when people thought of Oikawa Tooru, they thought of the sport the loved. He was the ambitious first year, the hard-working second year. He was always pushing, pushing, pushing himself to do better, to _be_ the best. Then came his third year, when he not only became captain of his team, but he also met Kageyama. .

Cute little Kageyama, with his wide canvas of talent and his eager, unshaded expression. He was still young, fresh cut and green compared to his seniors, but oh _hell_ was he good for his age. It was… almost endearing to have the kid trail after Oikawa, asking for praise and advice for how he did in practice. It was always "Oikawa-san, were my receives steady enough today?" or "Oikawa-san, I blocked that last spike pretty well, right?" or "Show me how to serve like you do, Oikawa-san." Oikawa-san, Oikawa-san, _Oikawa-san._

The third year wasn't unused to the adoration. He'd had players look up to him before like this. But somehow, in some way, Kageyama was _different. _Oikawa just had to look at that blankly happy face and it tore him. He didn't know if he wanted to roll the younger boy up in a blanket, coddle, and keep him all for his own; or if he simply wanted to see him break.

He didn't know what he wanted, and that was something he hated.

The conflict built up to a tension which, to his own horror, manifested in the form of a flat palm aimed to strike the first year's cheek. The shocked look on Kageyama's face, Iwazumi's scolding grasp on his wrist, it was... Scary. Oikawa wasn't one to lay a violent hand on another, and it scared him that he'd almost done just that.

After that, things were different. Kageyama didn't trail behind him, like an eager puppy wanting to play fetch. He didn't ask the older boy about his stance when he made a set, or how to time a serve. The two only drew further apart from each other.

It seemed he'd gotten part of what he wanted- he'd broken something- Kageyamas trust, maybe- and that too, was something Oikawa hated.

He hated that he still wasn't sure what he wanted from the other boy. Was it his adoration? His incessant need to please? Something else; something more?

He hated that he was even looking to Kageyama for these things, despite not knowing what he hoped to find.

**/AN: One day late but this is for day 1 of oikage week! Thanks to my beta, magicsintheair!/**


	2. Beauty

It was quiet, only a mumble that normally Kageyama would have never heard over the sound of volleyballs making impact with flesh and walls and floor, but somehow he did. There was a stutter in his step as he went for the ball; his head inclined to the other setter's voice, and arms uneven for the receive. Of course it struck wrong, and bounced off sideways.

With the ball trailing away in steady bounces, the first year paused, thought before he approached. Oikawa watched him, eyes flickering down, and went back to watching him. Kageyama could see that he was biting the side of his cheek.

"What did you say?" He asked slowly. He didn't really need to ask- he'd heard what was said. Maybe he felt the need for confirmation? Or maybe he wanted Oikawa to say it directly to him, while he was really paying attention, rather than to his back and while he practiced receives.

Oikawa drew a sharp breath, it was subtle, but not enough to go unnoticed. "I was just talking to myself, Tobio." He put on that trademark smile and Kageyama suddenly found himself wondering what else it'd been used to cover. "Don't worry about it! What you ought to be worrying about is those receives of yours. That last one… not too good."

Of course he would glaze over the question and try to bring Kageyama's attention elsewhere. Oikawa ruffled the younger boy's hair then, who pushed the hand off while he walked away to retrieve his stray ball.

It didn't matter what excuses were made, Kageyama knew what he heard. And that was Oikawa calling him beautiful.

**/AN: Day 2 or oikawa week! Magicsintheair is my beta/ **


	3. Silence

"You like me..?" Kageyama tried not to sound as shocked as he felt. Honestly, he should have seen it coming, what with all the "_You're too cute, Tobio!"_s, and arms securely draped round his shoulder, and broad smiles when they spoke to each other, but he'd figured that was just Oikawa being... well, Oikawa.

The older boy nodded, keeping a hard stare on Kageyama like he was gauging for a response. He didn't say anything, just stayed silent and waiting. Kageyama guessed he must have been nervous, but he was too.

As a first year in junior high, this was the first confession Kageyama had received. And from Oikawa, a third year? It was pretty overwhelming, to say the least. He didn't know what to do, or say, or how to react at all!

The silence drew on for too long, and Oikawa's gaze flickered, a quick glance away from the first year, back up, and away again. Kageyama wasn't answering; this was bad, right? He should have said _something_ by now if he returned Oikawa's feelings. Maybe he shouldn't have confessed his feelings. Bearing with them secretly would be better than this. His nerves were high to begin with; now he felt like they'd snap with the tension. He couldn't even say anything to break the stretch of silence between them; he couldn't trust that he wouldn't mess this up more than he clearly had already.

He looked back up to Kageyama's face, that adorable face so open and filled with ambition. Now it was unreadable. Oikawa decided then that he might want to die. It would be the only way out now, or he'd have to go the rest of his life dealing with this rejection. Maybe if he thought quickly, he could excuse himself from this situation.

He didn't even get to open his mouth before Kageyama forcibly coughed. He was looking at the floor, next to Oikawa's feet, and holding one of his hands out. He kept his jaw locked and tense, visibly just as nervous as his senior had been while inwardly fretting.

Not a word was passed as Oikawa took the smaller hand in his own. He was beaming, happy to have his answer now. Kageyama wouldn't look up, but he was hiding a small smile of his own, chewing on his bottom lip as well.

Now this was a silence they could deal with.

**/AN: Day three of oikage week, woo hoo! I had trouble with this one;;; magicsintheair was my beta!/**


	4. Hope

**/AN: This is an au where they don't actually know each other./ **

The bus ride was very, very long. The fact that Kageyama had to stand, made it seem much, much longer. Of course all the seats would be taken when he boarded. He was sure his legs were going to crumble beneath him, and every bump on the road made him stumble. Luckily he was able to keep his grip on the strap above, so he managed not to fall on any of the old ladies sitting behind him.

He wondered if any of them had a nearby stop, so he could slip into an empty seat once they left. Seeing how his day was going so far, he didn't think he'd have such luck.

Already today he'd slept past his alarm, gotten his hand stuck in a vending machine, missed his bus's first run because he was running so late, and had his jacket shut on by the bus door while it closed. Clearly, this wasn't a good day for him.

The ride was long, and Kageyama was not staring at the attractive man, reading and sitting across the aisle, just a few seats down.

He didn't notice the off-center part of his hair, or its unkemptness, or how it was just a shade or two darker than his eyes, which made Kageyama think of light roast coffee beans. He didn't notice the slight twitch of the man's head when his fringe fell too far over his eye, or how would pause his reading once in a while to tuck some of it behind his ear, only to have the bus jostle it free again.

He didn't notice how his nice complexion, with skin clean as an unused chalkboard. He didn't notice the soft angles of his jaw line, and he definitely didn't think about how the skin right above those collarbones would taste.

The visible muscles of his arms and legs didn't catch Kageyama's attention either. He didn't trace the lines of his calves up to the bottom of his shorts, no siree. And he totally didn't think about holding his own hands against the other man's rough-looking ones, measuring and comparing that broad palm and those long fingers.

No, none of those things went through his mind about the other man.

Kageyama wasn't staring, you see, became Kageyama was not a creep.

He was just a regular high school student, taking a ride on the 9 o'clock bus on a Friday morning. He spent his days cramming for exams and playing volleyball when he had free time. He liked convenient boxed drinks (even if they were small and quick to drain). He had a spunky best friend who he fought and raced with over the stupidest things. He had a short temper, and would be quick to turn to brute force during an argument.

The things were true about him. However, being a creep? No way.

The bus rolled to a shuddering stop, and he was snapped from his thoughts.

The attractive man looked up then, and flashed a smile that Kageyama was sure would remain permanently pressed in his mind forever. He closed his book, collected his things as he stood, and was gone without another motion or gland toward his younger admirer. He didn't check to see that he'd left his book in his seat.

With quite a ways to go until he reached his own stop, Kageyama swooped in to claim the now vacant seat. He picked up the book, skimmed the first few pages, and set it in his lap. It didn't interest him.

As the bus pulled away again, he found himself hoping to run into that man again someday. To return the lost book, of course.

**/AN: Day four of oikage week! Magicsintheair is my beta!/**


	5. A mother's love

**/AN: I should have started writing this yesterday, since I finished day four's prompt so early but nooooo gotta make everything hard for myself;;;** **This is for day five of oikage week!/**

Work Text:

Oikawa couldn't remember the last time he'd been this nervous. Not during a match, or when he'd first confessed his feelings to Kageyama, or even when they shared their first kiss- as awkward as it was. This made those things feel like preschool, and he suddenly missed the old, easy days. Of course it was himself who begged to meet his boyfriend's parents, but now that they were actually going through with it?

Kageyama had said he was introducing him to his mother first, so not to over well Oikawa, but what if she didn't like him? What if she had the same headstrong personality as her son, terrifying near everyone when upset or angry? Yeah, he loved Kageyama dearly but... he wasn't sure he wanted to face that pressure.

How was he supposed to act when meeting someone else's mom? He wasn't close with his own- she wasn't around the house often, but even when she was there _physically_, in every other aspect it was no different from being alone for the third year. She was a busy woman after all, and never failed to remind him of that. The late nights she spent pouring over paperwork, with a droning coffee pot as her sole companion didn't either.

The worst part had to be when they were standing outside the front door, waiting for Kageyama to dig out the key to let them in. There was no turning back now. This was Oikawa's first time at the younger boy's house now, so he didn't want to back out anyway, but that didn't mean the notion didn't spark in his mind for at least a second.

He felt like his heart and throat and stomach all swapped places when the door finally opened. It was large and blue, with a small window on the upper half. Behind it was a storm door the two boys clanged trough, with age old holes interrupting the mesh of the screen.

The rest of the house was, well, homely. Floral wallpaper, photos of Kageyama and his parents, a volleyball under the coffee table, various plants and afghans scattered around. It looked lived in. Much different from his own house, with its open walls and empty atmosphere. Oikawa was sure that the only pictures that were of himself were selfies he took on his phone.

A woman's voice suddenly sounded from another room, somewhere Oikawa couldn't see, and dragged his attention away from the setting at hand. Kageyama gave his hand a squeeze (when had they started holding hands? Was he really that nervous that he didn't notice the other's fingers slip between his own?), and lead him to his mother.

She was in the kitchen, arms plunged into a soapy pool of dishware in the basin of the sink. Her hair was dark and short, much like her son's, and she wore what Oikawa would definitely classify as "mom clothes". If there were an department store that strictly targeted moms, this woman would shop there.

Upon entering, the two boys were assaulted by cold suds, with Kageyama's mom waving her hands at them and sending sparks of water and soap their way.

"Hellooooo, boys!" Good lord, was she cheery. Just from those two words, Oikawa could tell Kageyama was a stark contrast from her.

They were still blinking in shock from the water, bubbles piled here and there at their feet and in their hair, when a pair of hands grabbed Oikawa by the shoulders, effectively scaring the ever-loving shit out of him. No, he did _not_ yell anything out in surprise. He had _no idea_ why Kageyama was snickering behind his free hand.

She was staring at him. This was the point when Oikawa realised where Kageyama must have gotten that stony, focused expression of his. Even on this woman it was downright terrifying.

A jab in the side from the younger boy reminded Oikawa, now would _probably_ be a good time to say something.

"Uh..." Queue the teeth flashing smile. Good thing it came naturally to him, or he probably would have died on the spot with a horrific, inappropriate grin. "Hi?"

"Tobio!" The woman gasped, and the aforementioned boy sighed, a look of caution falling on his face, "I didn't think you meant he was _this_ pretty! Look at that face! Come here and look at it! See, isn't he pretty!"

She finally released her hold, only to guide her red-faced son closer to where where she was standing. Nice to know that Oikawa wasn't the only one completely mortified with embarrassment here.

"Mom. Mom, I know! I'm dating him, I know he's pretty! I even _told_ you he's pretty, like you said!" And thus Kageyamas blush only deepened. His expression was a cross between a scowl and a pout at this point, and he pulled hard on Oikawa's hand.

If he weren't so embarrassed himself, the third year would have taken grateful note at how cute his boyfriend was like this. Instead, he was imagining what would happen if a velociraptor suddenly charged into the house. Something to save him from this situation. He don't know it, but Kageyama was running similar simulations in his own mind.

This meeting wasn't going anything like how either of them were anticipating, but considering how Oikawa thought it could have gone, this was pretty good. Though it was going to take a while to gather up the nerve to meet Kageyama's dad next.

/AN: So I like to think that Kageyama is shockingly unlike his parents, and that Oikawa's over-the-top personality is to over compensate for the lack of parental attention he gets at home quq Also this is my first time including an original character in a fic, wooo for that? This isn't betad atm, but I should be able to fix that tomorrow?/


	6. Stay as sweet as you are

**/AN: day six of oikage week! Woo!/**

Kageyama never thought he'd be one to receive flowers from someone as a romantic gesture. Well, he _still_ wasn't getting any flowers (he wasn't even sure if it as with romantic intent, honestly), but he figured this would be as close as he would ever get.

For the past few months the same man would come into Kageyama's pastry shop with a delivery of flour and initiate small talk with the him, before he left. It was a biweekly occurrence, one Kageyama didn't stop to think much of at first. But then he realised that with each visit, a different brand of flour would be deposited on his counter top. Sometimes it was gluten free, or self-rising flour. He hadn't gotten the same type of flour yet, so he did sometimes wonder where the other was getting the stuff. He didn't know so many brands even existed.

What made the deliveries weirder was that they were by an ordinary customer- Oikawa, one of Kageyama's regulars. He came in a few times every week, ordering the same thing every time, that being nothing. After the first two bags of flour, the Kageyama started serving him new recipes to try, as compensation for the money he spent.

He was probably reading into their relationship too much, and part of him knew that, but he figured maybe Oikawa was flirting with him. If he was going to be truthful, he really hoped he was flirting, even though he didn't flirt back. He didn't know how to. Last time he tried, he'd ended up slamming his own fingers in the cash register while taking another customer's order. Flirting wasn't Kageyama's area- it was more kneading dough and filling pastries that he had talent for.

Whatever Oikawa's intentions were, the unprompted flour deliveries were nice. And on slow days, his company made the pastry chef's job all the better. They talked about a lot of things- sometimes Kageyama's work, Oikawa's pissy neighbor, the quirky couple running the jazz music store next door, even the weather forecast later that week. He enjoyed it; he was sure the other man did too, or else why would he bother?

**/AN: betad by magicsintheair! I kinda want to revistit this au eventually, elaborate it more into a full fledge fic. I like it/**


	7. Hopeless love

**/AN: oh my god this one is so late, but my google docs app decided everything id written yesterday qnq.**

**Day seven! One day left!/**

Kageyama had a problem.

It was New Years Eve, and he was at Oikawa's house, a small condo to be exact. His teammates were there too, members from before Oikawa had graduated and moved into play for Aoba Johsai. He didn't want to be there, but he let Iwazumi talk him into it. Damn that guy's persuasiveness.

He was alone at the party, sitting on the couch with a cup of soda he'd nursed to near emptiness. His teammates were scattered across the flat, small groups engaged in their own buzzing conversations. Perhaps he could have joined them, but that would mean pretending he liked them, and they'd have to pretend to like him, and that wouldn't be fun for anyone. Instead he just sat there in his awkward gloom. He was content with that.

For the the most part. His eyes would betray him every so often and drift toward Oikawa, standing in a mass of three or four girls and chitter chattering away. He was loud enough to hear from across the room, promising each one he'd share a New Year's kiss with her. "_They can't all be your first kiss this year_!" Someone yelled from the kitchen.

It bothered Kageyama, but of course he didn't say anything. He _couldn't_ say anything. He'd thought that maybe know that he was in his final year of junior high, after two years of sparse encounters with the older setter, his feelings for him would have lifted somewhat, but now Kageyama almost wanted to leave.

He wanted to, but he wouldn't. Something kept him on that couch. Maybe he just didn't want to give in to the loneliness, but he didn't leave, even if he was considering it. Occupied by his woes and thoughts, he took to reading his soda can, if only to make himself look busy.

Of course he didn't notice the hard stare Iwazumi was giving him. He looked frustrated? Sympathetic? He also didn't notice the highschooler subtlety approach Oikawa, or hear the "_This is your party. You invited him. Go fix that_," mumbled in a low voice, close to a hiss.

Oikawa's face fell into a serious expression. Realisation, understanding- was that a hint of guilt?- came and went just as quickly, only to be replaced by a smile and light "thank you"s and apologies for the group of girls.

Kageyama's drink flew to his lips when the older boy sat down next to him, trying to disguise his idleness for thirst. As if that would work, but it was worth a try, right?

Oikawa leaned on the back of the couch, probably trying to look cool. For who? The girls maybe? Kageyama set the can on the table with more force than he meant to.

"Having fun?" The older boy didn't look at him when he spoke, instead scanned the party scene in front of them. Kunumi was preparing for the countdown, frantically checking the clocks to make sure he hadn't missed it. There was still a good few minutes left. Oikawa grinned at him, but it was short-lived, because then he was back to seriousness and facing the boy on the couch.

"No." His answer came with the sharpness of a baseball bat. "Why did you even invite me here?"

Oikawa gave him a look of mock-offense, lower lip in a pout and a hand fluttering up to his chest. "I wanted to spend some time with my old team! This seemed as good a time as any!"

Kageyama didn't say anything for a few seconds. The girls had dispersed by now, and were having their own time, sharing drinks and laughing with cracked jokes. Someone initiated a countdown for the new year- they still had an entire minute left. "Why are all those girls here then?"

That question went unanswered; he only received a nervous chuckle and a shrug, as the other boy pulled his fingers through his thick hair. Right.

"You could always leave, if you don't want to be here you know-"

"You want me to leave?" Kageyama cut him off, earning himself a furrowed brow and a deep frown. Oikawa looked like he'd suggested they all strip naked and run down the street; his expression just screamed 'are you stupid?'.

Twenty-four seconds left. The younger boy looked at the group crowding together. Everyone but Oikawa and him. '_Seventeen! Sixteen_!' How could someone be so eager that they start counting this early?

He looked back to Oikawa, squinting hard, when the high schooler said he was twisting his words. It was then, with that frown on his face, that Kageyama made his resolve. Just fuck it, just let his actions take control. It was almost a new year after all!

Eleven seconds. One girl beckoned Oikawa over, and he started to stand, offering Kageyama a meager smile. He didn't get far, before there was a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back on the couch. There was no time to react before a pair of lips were mashed against his own, determined, eager, aggressive.

Kageyama kissed him hard, but not very long. Oikawa wasn't kissing back, his hands were glued to to either side of himself and his back was stiff. Kageyama didn't care, he just need this, needed something, and if this were the best he'd get so be it. There wasn't a very good relationship for him to lose after this, and in the moment, nothing mattered.

He cut the kiss off at seven seconds, or tried to. There was a hand under his chin, a hand wrapped around his forearm, lips moving against his own when he went to pull away. This came as a shock, and now it was his turn to sit unreacting, until the grip on his arm tightened, and half the party-goers had turned their attention from the count down (three seconds). A few whooped and hollered, one cheered something lewd. Kageyama let himself kiss back, not as forceful as before, but slower, like he was taking the time to taste Oikawa's lips on his own.

The clock struck twelve then, cheers and hugs and thrown confetti marking the roll of midnight. Oikawa would be happy about the mess, but that was okay with the younger setter.

Kageyama solved the problem.


End file.
